Promotion
by 00Fangirl
Summary: Julius invites his boss over to his home in hopes of receiving a well-awaited promotion. Antonio finds a keen interest in Julius' oldest grandson and promotes him. To what lengths will Lovino go to insure his grandfather's position? Just how long can their "secret affair" last? Human AU!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, (Let's be real, if I did it would be chaotic) only this plot  
>Warning: Romano Potty Mouth up ahead.<strong>

**So this story is actually loosely based off of a dream I had after catching up with an old boss of my dad's, whose son is mighty fine good looking... but 24 years old (like spain here) and i'm only 17 about to be 18 (like romano here).  
>This story will have a a couple side pairings, but the main pairing is Spamano. There will be some Gerita and a couple more but we will cross those bridges when we get there. I know this chapter seems a bit, bleh but just bare with me, my prologues are always a bit odd and boring.<strong>  
><strong>Anyway. I hope you guys enjoy! Please Review :D<strong>  
><strong>and as always, feel free to point out any spelling grammatical mistakes (i'm only human) and ENJOY, MY CUPCAKES!**

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><p><span>~Prologue~<br>

"This is so fucking stupid." Lovino grumbled under his breath as he chopped up the lettuce into small bits. He had gotten off the phone with his grandfather a half hour ago when he was, rudely, commanded to cook dinner with his brother for a special guest. Needless to say, it put him in a sour mood.

His younger brother raised his eyebrows, but shrugged. "Aw, c'mon fratello. This is nonno's big break." He had just finished boiling the pasta and was currently working on their homemade marinara sauce. "We both know how long he's been wanting this promotion."

Lovino sighed at the statement and brought his hand to his sweaty forehead. "If he doesn't get a promotion after all the hard work in put into this meal, I will personally beat the shit out of his boss."

"Are you sure about that, Lovi?" Feliciano teased.

Lovino frowned at the usage of his nickname, but said nothing. He was usually a man full of empty threats, and this time would prove to be no different. He just really hoped his grandfather got the promotion, lord knows they needed it now more than ever.

Ten minutes later, the front door of their modest apartment swung open followed by their grandfather's laughter and a deep, unfamiliar chuckle. Lovino scowled and continued to put the finishing touches on the plates of food; which consisted of tossing croutons on the salads. Feliciano took the time to bring the wine bottle from their wine cabinet onto the dining room table.

"Grazie, boys." Their grandfather thanked once he ushered his boss to the table.

Feliciano smiled and hummed happily as he took his usual seat at the end of the table farthest away from their guest's seat, which is usually empty. Lovino, on the other hand, grumbled a few curse words as he washed his hands and dried them on his pink apron.

Julius glared at his grandson, but took two of the plates over to the dinner table. Lovino followed soon after with his and Feliciano's plates. He ended up sitting across from his grandfather, but paid no mind to him or to their guest and spent the whole dinner uncharacteristically quiet.

It got to the point where Lovino didn't even process that he was being talked to until his grandfather kicked him under the table. "Ouch, bastard!" He hissed as he matched the dirty look his grandfather shot at him. From the corner of his eye, Lovino could make out the way their guest's lips curved into a smirk.

"Antonio asked you a question, fratello." Feliciano said, before their stare-off became verbal. The tone in his voice was enough to distract Julius until Lovino recomposed himself.

"Can you please repeat the question?" He asked, voice strained as he tried his hardest to sound _'acceptable._' Lovino turned to face their guest, for the first time that night, and nearly choked on the air around him. He hadn't realized how... nice the stranger was to look at.

He looked like someone out of a magazine; with bright, curious green eyes, a dazzling white smile, and the build of an athlete. Antonio chuckled at the flushed look on the teen's face, but asked again, his tone professional. "Julius tells me it's your last year in high school. Do you have any idea what you might want to study in college?"

Lovino's hazel eyes filled with worry as they flickered toward his grandfather. "I used to want to study art history, but now I'm leaning more toward business or the culinary arts." His answer was so competent, although rehearsed, and Julius smiled proudly to himself.

"Really?" Antonio hummed, eyes flickering from his clean plate and back to Lovino, who seemed to shrink with the sudden attention. "Did you make this?"

Hazel eyes bulged as they flickered back toward his younger brother. He stayed quiet for a bit, but answered truthfully. "I helped. I made the croutons, and I was the one that originated the recipe for the marinara sauce."

Antonio _hmm'd _and brought the glass of wine to his lips, not once taking his gaze from Lovino. The latter shifted uncomfortably in his seat and stared down at his plate, the tips of his ears practically glowing. "I'll have to come over some other time to get the recipe, because this was delicious."

Julius chuckled nervously, but relaxed instantaneously at the look of reassurance that Antonio gave him. "You're welcome back any time, Mr. Carriedo."

"Please, stop being so formal, I am a guest. Besides, me siento viejo cuando me lo dices." The Vargas's, being the trilingual family that they are, understood his joke clearly and laughed. "What about you, Feliciano? What do you plan on studying?"

Feliciano tilted his head innocently to the side and smiled. "I wanted to study art around the world and make some art of my own. I have a couple paintings, but none of them are any good."

Lovino scoffed and continued to pick at his plate whilst his grandfather shook his head. "Feliciano is extremely talented with a paintbrush; muy maravilloso, como dicen ustedes."

"I would love to see one, Feli. Do you mind bringing me one?" Feliciano nodded and excused himself to pick out a painting. Julius followed soon after to check if it was one worth barging about, leaving the table with just Antonio and Lovino.

The Italian took a deep breath and swirled his spaghetti around the fork. He could feel the intense, green eyed stare that came from his right and gulped. "What about you, Lovino? Are you any good?" Shocked by the randomness, as well as the simplicity, of the question, Lovino could merely muster a shoulder shrug as a response. Antonio chuckled, obviously intrigued. "You know... I think your grandfather might actually have a shot at getting this promotion."

Just as Lovino opened his mouth to ask what he had meant, Feliciano and his grandfather came back in with the family portrait he had painted when he ten. The rest of the night was spent in talks of art, food, and music. They laughed, shared stories, and even cried in some points, but it seemed to be all worth it when it came time to say goodbye.

"Thank you for the invitation, Julius." Antonio hummed when he stood at the doorway. Lovino had stayed behind to wash dishes, wanting to be as far away from the Spanish bastard as possible. It killed him a little on the inside knowing that he had to restrain himself from cursing for an entire sitting. Usually he would've been up in his room if they had guests, and he even attempted to go a couple of times, but Julius forced him to stay.

He scrubbed the dishes a little harder than necessary that night, and his speed increased tenfold when he saw Antonio jogging toward him. "Hasta luego, Lovino." The Spaniard purred as he placed a goodbye kiss on the teen's cheek and nonchalantly slipped a piece of paper onto the counter.

Lovino scowled at the Spaniard, in attempt to hide how flustered he truly was. "Addio, bastardo." He muttered under his breath. Antonio chuckled and bid Julius one more farewell.

"I will have your papers processed in a week or so and by then you will know whether or not you got the promotion but with a night like this, I can assure you that the promotion is yours." The Spaniard sent a friendly wink at Julius as he left.

Just as the door slammed shut, Lovino stuffed the piece of paper in the pocket of his jeans and sighed. "You can say that again." Julius sighed as he ran a hand through his thick brown hairs. "I'm sorry I was so tough on you tonight, nipote. I just really needed this to go over well… and I think it did. Grazie."

"Prego, nonno." The brothers shouted back at him as he disappeared into his bedroom. Feliciano left soon after and Lovino found his hands subconsciously toying with the scrap paper that he had yet to look at, and probably never will.

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><p><strong><span>*Quick little sidenote before the<span> translations: **The kiss on the cheek isn't supposed to _mean _anything romantic in real life (its a way spanish people - if not all at least i know that puerto Ricans do this - say goodbye and hello) but for the sake of this story it's suggestive. But Feli and Julius got a kiss on the cheek as well, in case any of you were wondering !

Translations: (The Italian are from Google Translate, the spanish are from me and how I write it)

**me siento viejo cuando me lo dices- **I feel old when you tell me that (Sp.)  
><strong>muy maravilloso, como dicen ustedes- <strong>Marvelous, as you would say (Sp.)  
><strong>hasta luego- <strong>until next time (Sp.)  
><strong>addio- <strong>Goodbye (Ita.)  
><strong>nipote- <strong>Grandson (Ita.)  
><strong>prego- <strong>You're welcome (Ita.)


	2. One

**Guys I updated :D  
>I took the SAT's yesterday and I almost cried. I hate those kinds of tests :  
>Anyways, enjoy, my cupcakes!<strong>

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><p><strong>One<strong>

Keyboards clicked and light conversations ran freely thought the makeshift corridors, which were really only the spaces that separated the cubicles. The annoying whine of the old-school printer rang throughout the third floor of the office building. Everything was calm, quiet, and peaceful in the halls of Carriedo Construction Company. Everything except…

"He steadily dribbles the ball down center field, dodging each and every attempt at a steal of the ball." Gilbert narrated as he kicked a football* around in the moderate sized office room. Blue eyes glared at him from across the room, whilst Antonio chuckled. "The countdown continues and Beilschmidt only has five seconds to make a goal."

"The crowd grows anxious with every second the Prussian holds the ball. He glances at the clock, only three... two… one… _GOAL!_! Punto para Prusia*! And the crowd goes _insane!_" Gilbert holds the football in the air, and runs circles around the, currently, cramped office room, careful not to knock down any of Antonio's important papers.

"Mon Dieu, you two are très* annoying. I'm actually trying to get some work done around here." Francis sat in a secluded section of Antonio's office; a small desk with everything that belonged to him and related to the business.

Antonio chuckled from his new found place behind his French friend as he clamped his hands onto his shoulders. Francis groaned and rolled his shoulders in attempt to get Antonio away from him. "You love us regardless of how annoying we get."

Gilbert nodded from beside them both and sat in the corner of Francis' desk that was currently unoccupied. "Yeah, your life would be _très _boring without us."

Francis let out a melodramatic sigh and brought his arm to his forehead. "Remind me again _why_ I chose this job?" Antonio chuckled and Gilbert shrugged. "Speaking of jobs, mon ami, shouldn't you be heading to work now? Your lunch is almost over."

"Scheiße*," Gilbert muttered under his breath after crimson eyes met with the bland wall clock. "Thanks, man. See you guys after work!" He called back as he stuck his hard hat under his arm; the duo waved their goodbyes.

Ever since they were kids, the three of them did everything together, so it was no surprise that when Antonio's parents founded a company the three of them were hired instantaneously. Although, Gilbert had never been the office type, so he took up the position in the actual construction aspect of the company. Antonio and Francis were more into the financial and organizational status of the business.

Francis was either always nose deep in the blue prints of the latest projects or nose deep in Antonio's business, luckily for him, today was aimed toward the papers that flooded his desk. "I'm going to get some water, want some?" Toni asked. Francis shook his head and Antonio took it as his cue to leave.

With a light click of the doors locks, Antonio walked down the cubicles, greeting every worker with a smile or a wave of the hand. The water dispenser was placed right beside his mother's office, so after he rehydrated himself, Antonio knocked on the wooden door. Her voice called him in and her red lips curled into a smile upon seeing her son.

"Mijo,* Isabella's thick Spanish accent shouted as she stood up and straightened her black pencil skirt. She rushed, as fast as her heel-ridden feet could take her, toward her son with her arms open for a hug. Antonio laughed and hugged his mother back, still amused by the fact that even in heels, she was still shorter than him. "Hace tiempo, baby.* How have you been?"

"I've been good, mom. Working hard, I promise." The Spaniard giggled at her son and ruffled his thick, brown curls. She opened her mouth to retort, but shut it into a thin line when her phone's ring echoed throughout the office. She shot him a sympathetic smile and he blew her a kiss before leaving.

. . .

3:01. the white numbers at the bottom of his computer screen glared at him, taunting him with each passing second. His lunch break was in exactly 59 minutes and his meeting with Mr. Vargas was supposed to start ten minutes ago.

A deep, low growling interrupted the irritating silence and Francis chuckled from across the room. His laugh caused the Spaniard to flush a deep scarlet, as he tried to distract himself with the game of Solitaire that commenced on his screen... Not that it was any help.

Another growl filled the open air at the same instant that the clock struck 3:02. Antonio sighed deeply. "You're lucky my lunch break is now, Antonio." Francis muttered once his eyes met with the clock. "What do you want, _mon cher?"_

"Anything." Antonio dragged out the last letter, mimicking a desperate child. Francis rolled his eyes at his friend's immaturity, but stood up from his secluded corner and walked out of the room without another word.

3:10 was when a timid knock was held at the office door. Knowing that it was anyone but Francis, Antonio cleared his throat and welcomed in whomever was outside. A few seconds later, after hushed whisper-shouts, the door opened and in stepped three.

Antonio found himself sitting up straighter in his chair when they walked in, his eyes glued to the second oldest in the group. Lovino held a stern scowl and took a seat in Francis' chair, his gaze anywhere but Antonio. Feliciano followed his brother and took the seat beside him as he happily sipped on his smoothie.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Carriedo. I'm so sorry I'm late, I picked up the boys from school and Feliciano wanted a smoothie so we stopped." Antonio smiled understandingly and nodded.

"If you need different hours, let me know and I will shift you so that you can pick up the boys every day."

Julius was grateful and he nodded. The pair continued to talk business and possibilities; new work hours, the new job, new co-workers, and a raise in income. It was an entirely different situation, but Julius was ready to take it and not look back. When their meeting had died down, Julius reminded Antonio that he needed to take the boys home.

"Do you mind if I talk to Lovino in private for a few minutes?" Antonio tried his hardest to hide the velvet that wanted to escape in his low tone. Julius shot him a questioning look, and Antonio quickly fabricated. "It's for a new internship our company is offering for seniors who want to study business, which is why I asked during that dinner."

Julius couldn't hide the smile that was forcing itself upon his lips and nodded. He whispered something in his grandson's ear before leaving with Feli. "We'll be right outside." He said, as they closed the door.

Lovino took a deep, sharp breath and continued to stare at the tile flooring. Antonio smiled to himself as his eyes made contact with how red the tips of his ears were. He cleared his throat, which, momentarily, got the teen's attention.

"How have you been?" He asked, starting off kindly.

Lovino clenched his fist, then unclenched them and repeated the process a few times before answering in a raspy voice. "Why the hell should you care?"

Antonio raised his eyebrows at the sudden swear word, but chuckled. "I just do." A brief moment of silence passed between the two, and when Antonio was sure the teen wasn't going to answer, he continued. "Did you get the paper I left you last week?"

Lovino's throat went dry. _Yes, of course, you idiot. I just didn't want to call you because I was nervous and it's weird_. "No," he lied. Antonio's hand toyed with the mouse of his computer as he smirked.

"Alright." Lovino's eyebrows furrowed in a questioning manor and his eyes finally met with sparkling green ones. "Down to business, though." Antonio stood up from his desk, causing Lovino's body to shake from the wave of intimidation that the Spaniard gave off. He took a seat on the edge of his desk closest to Lovino. The Italian shuffled in his seat and brought his hands together.

"I told your grandfather that my company has a new internship for high school seniors. It's not a complete lie, but you get the point. You intrigue me, Lovino, and that's not something I say to just anyone." The teen gulped and nodded, by now accepting the fact that his cheeks would have a permanent pink tint to them. "That being said I'm going to need quite a bit of information from you." Again a nod.

Question after question shot out toward the Italian, including allergies, work history, phone number the _normal_ things asked during a job interview. As Antonio read Lovino the details of the internship, the teen found himself struggling to find enough time in the day for school, the internship, and his social life – well lack thereof.

"And if I refuse?" He tried to sound brave, but the pathetic way his voice croaked at the end provided no help.

Antonio brought his finger to the tip of his nose, a childish gesture to signify his thinking process. "Hm... Good question." Lovino saw his smirk grow and took a deep breath. "If you refuse, your grandfather's paperwork might just end up in the shredder."

Hazel eyes widened, but then narrowed as he crossed his arms. "You're bluffing."

Antonio chuckled and picked up the stack of papers behind him. "Julius Vargas. Aged: sixty. Occupation: construction." Antonio held the stacks of papers out toward the garbage and wiggled them in his grip. Lovino stood up and yanked the papers away from him, careful not to rip them.

"Fine I'll do your stupid internship, just let nonno get his promotion." The Spaniard smiled.

Lovino left the room seething, fingernails digging into his palms and head held low. Julius didn't even bother to question the state of his grandson, and drove them home in complete silence. Lovino spent the rest of that night scowling at the bland walls of his room.

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><p><strong>football -soccer ball<br>Punto para Prusia (sp.) -point for Prussia.  
>très (fr.) -very.<br>Scheiße (ger.) -shit.  
>Mijo (sp.) -combination of <em>mi<em> and _hijo_ meaning my son.  
>Hace tiempo (sp.) -it's been a while.<br>**


End file.
